‘Mind?’ Helen couldn’t help smiling. Darcy was so appealingly vague, so obviously good-natured. ‘Mind what?’

‘Well, me turning up to see you. I could have phoned, but I was passing and …’

‘No, I’m pleased. You’re a wonderful reason for not struggling to work any more with all this going on.’ She pointed at the floor, laughing.

‘What is going on?’

‘Pansy’s having a party. It happens quite often. Oliver’s probably there. D’you want to go down and join in?’

‘No,’ Darcy recoiled. ‘Let’s go for a walk instead.’

‘At eleven at night?’

Darcy looked surprised. ‘Why not? What else shall we do? The pubs will be shut. If you like, next time I take you out, we can go to one of Oliver’s flash restaurants, if I steal his address book first. But it’s a beautiful night tonight. We can go along the river.’

Helen snapped her book shut and reached for her coat. Together they slipped down the stairs, by unspoken agreement making a wide detour around the open door of Pansy’s room. A couple of people were sitting on the stairs with their arms around each other, but neither of them looked up as Darcy and Helen stepped past. Then the heavy door banged shut behind them and Darcy breathed deeply in the sudden quiet. He steered Helen up the steps from the island, across the orange-lit ribbon of road and down again to the towpath. They began to walk together, side by side, hands in their pockets. The silence between them was companionable. Once past the bridge the river ran slow, and there was no sound except the occasional gurgle and slap of a ripple against the bank. Lights from a group of moored barges made wavering patches of brilliance on the black water. The sky was overcast and as black as the water but the air was surprisingly gentle and still. Along the bank under the willows were the pale-bleached splashes of crocuses. Although it was only February, Helen thought she could smell the first warm sweetness of spring.

‘I walk a lot at night,’ Darcy said. ‘There aren’t enough daylight hours for a farmer just to wander around looking. I can see things at night that I wouldn’t be able to during the day. There’s a badger colony in one of my woods.’

‘Do you farm at Montcalm?’ Helen asked, curious. She remembered the manicured parkland, but no ploughed fields or untidy cows.